as that?" she questioned.

"It was when I was five an' a half," replied Danny.

"How old are you now?" Whiteface asked.

"Eight and more'n a half."

"Three years ago," said Mrs. Bowe. "That was only a few months after he
was stolen. How did he happen to be alone in a country road?"

"I don't know," replied Danny.

"Perhaps your mother knows," suggested Whiteface.

"I don't think so," Danny replied. "Father always said it was a mystery.
It was very late at night--almost midnight, I guess."

"We must see her, Robert, and thank her for taking care of Gary."

"Yes," said Whiteface, "she kept him after her husband's death--with
five children of her own. She must have liked him very--"

"She does," Chris interrupted eagerly.

"We all do," Danny stated.

"How could you help it?" asked Mrs. Bowe. "Now, Gary, can you tell me
anything about what happened to you? Think hard."

"Yes," said his father. "We left you in the dressing room with one of
the girl acrobats while we were on and when we came back you were gone.
The girl had been called out for a few minutes and got back just as we
did. We hunted all over the circus for you and got the police to help
us."

"Do you remember any one taking you away?" asked the beautiful lady who
was now his mother.

"No'm," replied Jerry.

"Say, Mother, Gary," pleaded her low, beautiful voice close to his ear.

"No, Mother," Jerry repeated obediently.

"Try to think awfully hard," said Whiteface; "was there a man with a big
mark across his forehead--"

"A red mark?" interrupted Jerry eagerly.

"Yes!" cried his mother. "Robert, it was John Rand! I knew it was that
low creature."

"I feared it," said the clown.

"What did he do to you, Gary? Was he kind to you?" asked his mother.

Jerry seemed to see in a flash a man with a red mark across his forehead
cuffing him over the head and twisting his arm till he cried out from
the pain.

"I'll pull your arm right out if you ever tell any one you ain't my
brat," a coarse, thick voice seemed to be saying in his ear, "or if you
ever let on as how I ever hurt you in anyway at all."

Jerry cowered down in his mother's arms and hid his face against her
breast. He did not answer her questions. His heart was galloping with
fear. The man with the red scar might come back.

"Why don't you answer, Gary?" asked the clown gently. "Don't you
remember?"

Jerry felt the lady who was his mother holding him tighter in her arms
and then